


among the trees

by walkthegale



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Firsts, Magic, Outdoor Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkthegale/pseuds/walkthegale
Summary: Every time still feels like something completely new.
Relationships: Ada Cackle/Hecate Hardbroom
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36
Collections: Hackle Lemonade Challenge





	among the trees

**Author's Note:**

> For the Hackle Lemonade Challenge, Week One: [Firsts](https://walkthegale.tumblr.com/post/641815452839968768/hackle-lemonade-challenge).

Every time still feels like something completely new, and yet they’re building a certain familiarity, a distinct kind of comfort as they learn each other’s bodies, reactions, particular pleasures.

This, however, is newer yet. For the first time, Hecate does not think they’re going to make it as far as either of their bedrooms. Perhaps not even as far as the castle at all.

Hecate gasps into Ada’s mouth as Ada presses closer still, the rough bark of the tree digging into her back. Their kiss deepens further, Ada’s hands sliding over Hecate’s back, her sides, the bare skin at her neck, and Hecate knows beyond all doubt that very little could induce her to suggest they go elsewhere right now.

Hecate loves the woods. She can feel the pulse of life all around her, in the tree behind her, and the vegetation underfoot, the very air thick with it. She is not a green witch - she doesn’t have that closeness of connection, her magic is not so thoroughly intertwined with the natural world - but that doesn’t mean she can’t appreciate the threads of it, all linked together out here in the singing dark.

Enfolded in that darkness, safe and hidden among the trees, with a whisper of a warm night’s breeze in her hair and Ada’s body against hers. The crush of her breasts through dress and sweater, the dig of her fingers gripping Hecate’s arms. The movement and heat and softness of Ada. The life of her, in this place where life is everywhere, all around them, and where Ada still, _always_ , glows brightest of all. Every time Hecate thinks she’s getting used to it, it catches her afresh and takes her breath away.

A warm brush of Ada’s magic winds its way up Hecate’s legs, the hem of her dress swept up in it, lifted high enough to allow Ada’s hand in beneath, pressing exquisitely against the fabric of her underwear. She arches her hips to meet the touch, her breath leaving her in a shuddering sigh.

She hadn’t really believed they would do this out here - not really. True, it is the holidays, so there are no students around, but there’s little to prevent another teacher going for a walk around the grounds and happening by, and then where would they be? What if they were seen, even from a distance? What if Hecate had to face someone else’s knowing glance across the staff room in the morning? Several someones, if the knowledge is shared.

The horror and heat mingles in Hecate’s belly, a little intoxicating.

And then Ada’s fingers find their way under the edge of her underwear and the heat wins, driving any thoughts of stopping, of waiting, even for another moment, from her head. Perhaps she should be embarrassed by this desperation, by this much _need_. By the complete lack of control that has led her here, to this moment. Perhaps with anyone else, she might have been ashamed.

She opens her eyes long enough to see Ada looking back at her - her own lust reflected back in Ada’s bright, intense gaze. It’s utterly overwhelming.

Ada holds her there as her fingers start to move. Long, even strokes until Hecate’s eyes flutter closed again, her hips moving in time with the pace Ada sets. Her fist clenches around a handful of Ada’s sweater, knuckles digging into the solidity of her. She’s aware, too, of Ada pressing against her thigh, of Ada’s own movements. Hecate lets her hand drift down to Ada’s rear, deliciously full, and she clutches Ada to her, revelling in Ada’s luxurious flesh. Ada’s fingers, relentless, draw a spiral of pleasure at her centre as deftly as though by magic.

Ada’s name is on Hecate’s lips when she comes. She cries it out into the forest night, one more sound among many.

She hears Ada’s breath catch too - a gentle moan escaping her. Limp, held between Ada’s strength and the solidity of the tree, Hecate takes a deep, shivering breath. She feels absolutely, entirely safe here, and she finds herself offering a moment’s thanks to the woodland for this. To the tree for holding her up, and the shadows for their seclusion. A somewhat more romantic notion than she might have believed of herself.

Ada, in her arms, has stilled while Hecate recovers herself, but Hecate can feel the tension thrumming though her, can feel that she’s almost shaking with desire. Hecate hardly knows how to comprehend being this wanted. The most natural thing she can possibly imagine is to slide her hand down beneath the waistband of Ada’s skirt, to glide over her soft, warm stomach and to dip between her legs and tend the silken heat she finds there.

Ada trembles against her as she comes apart, so quickly and so beautifully, whimpering high and sharp. Hecate watches her, wholly enthralled. This is because of her. _She _does this to Ada, over and over again, and she wants to keep doing it, over and over again, for as long as Ada wants her to.__

__When Ada settles against her, resting her forehead against Hecate’s chest and breathing hard, Hecate presses a kiss to her hair. She just about has enough energy and presence of mind left to raise her hand and transfer them both to Ada’s bedroom for the remainder of the night._ _


End file.
